


Inhuman (never meet your heroes)

by FandomUnleashed204



Category: Original Work
Genre: Horror, Pseudoscience, Superheroes, Weird Biology, okay it's not really horror, uncanny valley effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 16:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomUnleashed204/pseuds/FandomUnleashed204
Summary: People say to never meet your heroes.This is especially true in an era where the most common scenarios it could happen in are life-threatening.
Kudos: 1





	Inhuman (never meet your heroes)

**Author's Note:**

> A quick looks at the side effects of being something more than human. Inspiration from various places. Enjoy my garbage, dears.

People say to never meet your heroes.

This is especially true in an era where the most common scenarios it could happen in are life-threatening.

The dawning age of superheroes was marked by the explosive debut of a young lady known as “the Kid,” the first of her kind to appear noticeably in the public eye since ancient times.

 _Back then, strange occurrences were much easier to blame on magic or the gods,_ she explained to a lucky reporter. _And even today, people will still see what they want to see. I’m just the impulsive shithead who blew our cover._

Yet with the tearing of the veil from people’s eyes, their metaphorical blindfold to the supernatural didn’t need to be replaced. There was no cover up, no shady-looking government officials calling a false alarm, no swift yanking of videos from the internet. Instead, the public welcomed superhumans into society with wide, eager eyes, waiting for the world of comic books to come to life and tell a new story before them.

(Un)fortunately, it did.

You see, with powerful superheroes come terrifying supervillains.

And you are ten times more likely to meet your heroes in the thick of a battle, when you’re stuck in the middle of dark and deadly danger that they are honor-bound to drag you out of.

Now, this is not a story about all of those brave souls in that world who used their talents to do the right thing. This is a letter of warning about one in particular, the one-woman vanguard of the age of superhumans.

Her name was “the Kid” back then for a reason, not only for her youth and her innocence but also for her brand-new abilities. She was small and tough and noisy and _fast_ most of all, but she couldn’t go any faster than precisely one hundred and fifty-one miles per hour. Although it was no small feat, “the Kid” had a lot of growing to do (which is a whole other story than this one, mind you, but this story is to be finished first).

Despite the novelty of her powers, the few lucky people she had close contact with started noticing something _different_ about the girl. But back then, it was easy to dismiss the way she was so prone to fidgeting, or the way she ate so damn much when offered, or the way she would stare at a timer for a game or on a bomb counting down into the _seconds_ with nothing but sheer boredom on her face. It was easy to blame it on…

Teenage? Tweenage?

… adolescent tendencies. So they would say things like:

_She’s so energetic, I wish I was that young again._

_She eats like my sons do, and I gotta tell you- teenage appetites are a menace!_

_I can’t tell if it’s ADHD or not, but a lot of kids can't sit still either when they’re that old or so._

But back then, it was really there if you just looked past the tendency of the human mind to file things away into neat, comforting little boxes. Because something there was frantically whispering, “Human, like me. Human. She must be,” and people elected to ignore the little red flags of something else.

Like how she was always ( **always** ) moving in some way. Or how she would be almost pleased when those around her spoke quickly and almost agitated when they spoke slowly. Or how everything on her plate usually vanished in under twenty seconds with no witnesses recalling her putting a utensil to her mouth. Or how any other food that she could take and still seem polite would also make a disappearance (and buffet workers were often baffled when only half the contents of entire platters would be left by the time she was gone). People rarely made the connections, but when they did, the _otherness_ of their first real hero didn’t feel right to talk about at the time.

Funny thing about time. It keeps moving.

The rumors started trickling in not long after the Kid’s speed increased and she started displaying a new ability- control over electricity. Conspiracy theories on the corners of the internet were slowly gaining in number and popularity by the time she demonstrated that her powers extended to electromagnetism as well. The side effects were more noticeable, but the public was willing to pull entertainment out of spotting their media darling’s interesting quirks.

But people say to never meet your heroes.

And soon enough, there were more of them who understood one of the reasons why.

Because when faced with the presence of something powerful, and something distinctly _not like me_ yet wearing a normal human face, part of the human mind couldn’t exactly put her in the same neat little box and it was unnerving.

Because they saw the way her sharp little canines were _slightly_ longer than normal.

They saw the way she was always, **always** moving and couldn’t ignore it this time.

They saw how the color of her eyes was different from the more natural color they first saw her with, tinged with a small ring of gold around the iris that lit up and grew whenever she used electricity.

They saw the way little pieces of metal would cling to her, sometimes, against the pull of gravity. And they saw the way she didn’t notice that she was doing something to make them stick.

They saw the way that she would emit a soft, barely-there light even when sleeping.

They felt the way her touch would leave their skin tingling, even through the barrier of a glove.

Some of them would catch the slight, perpetual scent of ozone around her.

They witnessed many abnormal things, those lucky few, but most importantly-

They felt how something they couldn’t name crept up their spines when they turned their backs to her, a long-buried instinct left behind with humans gaining their place at the top of the food chain finally returning.

 _Predator,_ it warned.

But when a vision of her saving their lives appeared, side by side with an imagined version of their hero looking disappointed in them, the little voice of panic (or was it reason?) would grudgingly offer a new title.

_Inhuman._


End file.
